Left Behind
by SophisticatedFridge
Summary: Time is running out as the exhibits close in on them upon all sides. Forced into an impossible decision, Ib elects to stay so that Garry and Mary may leave the gallery. Now-years later-dreams of their forgotten friend haunting them. Garry and Mary return once more to Guertenas world in order to rescue their dear friend. But when they return will there be a friend left to rescue...
1. Prologue

Hello!  
A while back I began writing this story and published it. It did quite well for itself but due to some real life events I abandoned it. Now that things have settled down I have re-written the first few  
chapters - This one being shorter as it is the prologue. There will be no OC's as I intend to simply focus on expanding the trio in the game. Let me know what you think, any feedback is appreciated.

* * *

"No…Absolutely _not"_

Garry delivered the words with an uncharacteristic firmness, his relentless pacing continuing without pause, as it had been for several minutes.

Beside him, Ib watched in silence. It worried her to see Garry so stressed, an angry tone lurking beneath his words. In their journey through the twisted world that was Guertenas' gallery,  
she had never seen him like this. Scared – yes. They both had been, but he had always been kept himself in check, keeping himself calm for her sake. Now the illusion was shattered, Garry's  
face was rigid, all traces of his usual kind demeanour gone, his blue eyes wide and panicked as he strode back and forth in front of the painting which barred their way, searching for an  
answer to their problem when one did not exist.  
"Garry…" Ib said quietly, keeping her voice down so as not to alert the exhibits of their position.  
During the silence they could be heard, searching each area of the gallery for a sign of their prey, getting closer with each passing moment.  
"There's no other way…" Ib said, her voice small.  
"To _hell _there isn't!" Garry exploded, stopping his pacing at last and slamming the side of his fist into the wooden panelling of the wall.  
Silence reigned over them once more as Garry flexed his hand, having injured it with the force of the blow.

Taking a step back from him, Ib cast a furtive glance to her left and right, trying to penetrate the unnatural gloom which held the gallery in its grip. There was no doubt that the sound of the  
impact, echoing along the dark corridors, had been heard.  
Garry did not seem to realize this however, he rounded upon Mary, pointing an accusing finger at where she sat hunched against the wall opposite them, her head in her arms.  
"She says there isn't" he said angrily, "But why should we believe her?"  
"Garry…" Ib began, walking over to where the tall youth stood and placing a hand upon his arm.

He shook her off.

"After all she's done…" he continued, his voice turning hard, "After…" he paused for a moment, "She would have killed me…would have killed _you _Ib_. _There's no limit to what she…no…_it…_would  
do to get out of here …"  
Ib stared up at him, alarmed by the direction Garrys' line of thought was taking him. But he continued still, oblivious.  
"I can't forgive her…I can't trust her…" Garry said, his eyes narrowing, "We should leave her here."  
"GARRY" Ib shouted.  
Looking down at her, his expression turning to one of surprise, Garry found that Ib was not looking at him, but instead over to her right.

"…"

Garry fell silent as he followed her gaze to where Mary sat crumpled, sobbing uncontrollably into her dress.  
"It's not her fault…" Ib said, walking over to Mary and laying an arm across the girls' shoulder, "Tell me you wouldn't have done the same…if you were in her position…"  
Garry opened his mouth to protest but said nothing, after looking down at the two girls for a long moment he closed it again, looking ashamed.  
"Sorry…" he murmured, eyes downcast.  
"No…don't be…" Mary replied, her voice tiny, "You're right….it's my fault you're here…I should be the one who stays…"  
Mary spoke the words without looking up. Ib, on the other hand, shot a glance at Garry, whom turned his back on her, pretending to inspect the painting.

"…"

The silence stretched on for a time, broken occasionally by Marys' sobs and the sound of the exhibits shuffling through the corridors, slowly closing in upon them. It was clear that time was  
running out – and still Garry made no move, his thoughts to Marys' earlier words.  
_The gallery won't let us all leave….one of us has to stay._  
Garry could not deny that Mary had agreed to what he wanted. The idea of her running free in the 'real world' whilst himself or Ib remained here repulsed him. She was crazy,  
manipulative…dangerous. And yet even as he tried to justify the decision to himself, Ibs' argument reverberated in his skull, giving doubts to what had seemed such a simple decision.  
_Dammit. _Garry thought, _Why me…_  
People weren't meant to have to deal with this. This sort of horrible decision was best left to actors on TV, reading their scripts with practiced bravado and horror, not real people. It was  
absurd.  
And yet…

_There's only one thing I can do…_

Garry thought sadly as he turned to face the two girls.  
"I'll stay" he announced in a solemn voice.  
"Wha…what…?"  
Mary stumbled over the words, not believing that she had heard him speak them.  
"You two go. I'll stay here" he said, reiterating.  
Marys' eyes, reddened and glazed with tears, went wide as he said this, whilst Ib beside her simply stared up at him, looking sad.  
"You would do that…for me?" Mary asked.  
"I…" Garry hesitated, he was throwing his life away, for what - Some crazy girl?  
He couldn't do it.  
"I…"

"It's ok Garry" Ib said, finally standing, she walked over to Garry and hugged him around the waist, "You don't need to stay here. I will."  
Ib said the words with conviction, far more than Garry had mustered.  
"You can't" he argued instinctively.  
"Garry. It's the only way"  
"I won't leave you…" Garry argued stubbornly, but deep down he began to feel the despair, part of him knew that his words were hollow, pointless…  
But still he argued, desperate to find some way.  
"I'm older. It's my responsibility!" he said, breaking free of Ibs' embrace so as to look at her face.  
"Then who will look after Mary?" Ib asked, her voice staying steady.  
"You can do it as well as I!" Gary replied, his own voice growing more strained with each passing second.  
"You don't want to stay!" Ib cried, looking up at him, her emotions finally coming to the surface.  
Garry stepped back, shaken to hear the truth spoken aloud, as if some taboo had been broken.  
"Neither do you…" he whispered.  
"But I will" Ib replied, "For Mary…and for you…"

Garry stared down at her, stricken.  
"I…" he paused, the look of conviction in Ibs' eyes was absolute, it was pointless to argue, as he had known all along.  
Ib took his silence as ascent, walking over to Mary she lay a hand on the other girls' shoulder, "Be good. Try not to drive Garry up the wall", she turned and forced a half smile onto her  
face, "I'm sure you will anyway though…"

Mary gave a wail of sorrow slammed her head into Ibs' chest, crying once more.  
"Garry…" Ib began, her voice soft, as if she were comforting _him, _"I'm glad we met…"  
She said simply, leading Mary across to where he stood.  
Garry watched here approach, speechless, there were no words he could offer her, nothing he could do for her now.

"I…" he began, once Mary was by his side, clinging to his arm for support, "I won't abandon you."  
He said, voice ringing with conviction, "I'll spend every day, _every moment, _looking for a way to rescue you. And once I find one, I'll come back…and get you out of here…" he said.  
"I look forward to it…after all...I still have your jacket" Ib replied, giving him a smile and doing a brief twirl, causing Garrys' blue coat to flutter about her.  
"This is _not _goodbye…" Garry said, casting a despairing look upon the painting as he clambered awkwardly into it with Mary in tow.

The last brief glimpse Garry got of the gallery was a lone girl, standing in the darkness, her fake smile mangling upon her face as she watched her companions leave her alone in the dark.

"It is…" she whispered.


	2. Familiarity

I apologize for the delay. League was in its week of s3 and I went pretty hardcore.  
This chapter and the next (from the perspective of Mary and Garry respectively) have quite a slow pace I think. But it will pick up after two.  
Let me know what you think of how I portray Mary and Garry. I apologize for any awful formatting.

* * *

_I don't remember what I was doing…_

Mary found herself standing in a brightly lit room, staring confusedly at the massive piece of art before her. Droves of people eased themselves  
past her, some frowning to themselves as they wondered what it was about the frightening piece which interested the young, blonde haired girl so much.  
_The Fabricated World._  
Mary mouthed the words as she read them, certain that she had seen them somewhere before.  
"Mary"  
The din of the crowds drowned out the call so that Mary did not hear it.  
"Mary!"  
The voice was closer now but still Mary paid it no heed, too intent upon the small plaque below the painting before her.

_ The Fabricated World  
Commissioned in 1604 by The Church of Saint Boniface. This  
Piece – measured at twenty foot wide and eight foot tall – was  
deemed too oppressive and did not find home for some thirty  
years – twelve after Guertenas' death – in Le Louvre – where it  
remained for much of the seventeenth and eighteenth century._

"Hey"  
Mary froze in panic as a hand clamped down upon her shoulder.  
"There you are. I've been looking everywhere…"  
A tall youth with a tangled mop of grey hair and sharp blue eyes stood directly behind Mary, his otherwise kind face showing just a slight hint of disapproval.  
"Stop rushing off like that. I went straight after you and forgot my blasted coat!"  
The youth strained his neck over the crowd and scanned the room, perhaps hoping that it would materialize out of thin air.  
"Hey….are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" he asked, "Earth to Mary…"  
Lightly, the youth spun Mary around so that she was facing him, then, leaning down he clasped her other shoulder and peered into her eyes.  
"My God…there seems to be no sign of _intelligent_ life anywhere…." He said, putting on a mock show of looking worried.  
"Sorry…." Mary said automatically, looking down ashamedly at her feet.  
The youth raised an eyebrow questioningly, looking a little worried for real now.  
"Are you ok…" he prodded, "Problem with your project?..." he added when Mary made no response.

Mary jolted back from him.  
_Of course the school project! _She thought. _How could I forget…_  
She had been working on an art project for weeks, naturally when she saw that a Museum in the next town over was hosting the World Renowned  
Guertena Exhibit, she had jumped to action. Even her teacher had been a little surprised by her over-zealousness.  
"Sorry Garry!" Mary said, her voice returning to its usual bright tone, "Guess I must have had brain freeze!"  
Garry, who had been looking alarmed, relaxed immediately.  
"That's what I get for letting you have all that ice cream I guess…" he sighed, "You were looking at this the whole time?"  
Garry turned his attention to the art piece before him, looking a little uncomfortable. It seemed to have that effect on most people. At first glance an  
onlooker might have mistaken the piece for a simple landscape skyline – which in many ways it was. However, upon closer scrutiny it was clear  
something was very wrong. Buildings which seemed ordinary were in fact warped, doors and windows hanging in space as the artist took advantage of  
the onlookers perception of distance. This was not all, pedestrians, their faces far too small to be noticed except under close scrutiny, bore horrible leering  
expressions. Experts said that the painting in fact contained over one hundred small features like this, leading to the painting having a kind of fearful  
reverence in the art world.

"Yep!" Mary agreed, leaning in to inspect a stray dog which was depicted howling at a young infant, "There's so much to take in!"  
Garry, who was now looking at the painting with the same expression that one uses when surveying outdated milk snorted.  
"That may be so but I'm not I _want _to take it all in…" he muttered, turning from the piece and looking down at Mary.  
The pair of them stood there a few moments more before Mary finally tore her gaze from the piece. By now her earlier feeling of unease had faded – her  
momentarily lapse in memory, ironically, had been forgotten. She was here at the Guertena exhibit with her adopted borther Garry to work on her  
school project, it was simple as that.  
"You ready to leave?" Garry asked, a little hopefully, he did not share Marys' passion for art.  
Mary shook her head.  
"Not yet, there's just one more thing I wanna see!"  
Without further delay, Mary darted off, weaving through the crowds expertly, ignoring the angry looks people shot her as she passed them, traveling  
in the wrong direction.  
Several paces behind her already, Garry made his way after her with many an Excuse me's and Pardon's as he bumped into indignant tourists.

The last thing which Mary was looking for was the final painting of Guertenas' life and, oddly, it was one of first of his works' on display, hanging proudly  
in an electronically protected display case in the Museums' lobby.  
Though she was certain that she must have seen it when entering the museum, Mary found herself unable to recall its finer details.  
_Weird. _Mary thought, darting past an elderly man as he took a photo of a nearby Mannequin. _I guess I was in too much of a hurry…_  
Putting the matter to the back of her mind Mary continued weaving between the crowd, ignoring, or perhaps not even noticing, the disapproving  
looks – eager to reach the lobby.  
However, after a short time Mary became distracted in spite of herself by some of the other works' on display.  
Sculptures and statues, and more than a hundred paintings, Guertenas colossal collection of works' captivated Mary and she found herself spending far  
more time than she had anticipated drinking them all in. Luckily, these brief pauses offered Garry the chance to catch up with her, and often Mary would  
just be finished looking at a particular piece just as Garry would show up, breathing heavily and looking exhausted, asking her to slow down in a desperate  
tone.

"How about _you _speed up!"  
Mary was saying on one such occasion.  
The pair were now standing by a sculpture of a blue rose; it's incredibly detailed design making it look indistinguishable from the real thing, if not for its huge  
size.  
"I'm doing the best I can here…." sighed Garry, leaning against one of the brass poles which surrounded the piece, the red velvet rope suspended between  
them stopping people from reaching out towards it, "We don't all have your unnatural stamina you know…"  
"Cummon…." She whined, pointing behind her she added, "Look! We're almost there!"  
Garry cocked an eyebrow and followed her finger, noting the double doors through which the stream of new arrivals had slowed to a trickle.  
"See it?" Mary asked impatiently when Garry did not respond immediately.  
"Yeah" replied Garry, leaning back on pole for support and closing his eyes wearily.  
Seeing his reaction, Mary made to set off again but found herself restrained by Garrys' outstretched arm catching her elbow.  
"This time…" he said slowly without opening his eyes, "Wait for me…It's emptying out in here and I don't want people to think you've gotten yourself into  
trouble…"  
Mary rolled her eyes but made no movements and, after a few seconds, Garry opened his and eased himself forwards to her side.  
"Let's _go" _urged Mary, tugging Garry forwards.  
"Ugh…" he grunted blearily.  
Towing Garry behind her with all the eagerness of a kid in a candy store Mary passed the through the doors and into the main lobby.

"Jeez…..so much for slowing down…" grumbled Garry, breaking apart from Mary and collapsing ungracefully onto the nearby bench.  
"That _was _slow!" protested Mary, her head swinging left and right.  
"Is that some kind of voodoo magic?" Garry asked jokingly, peering at her through his one open eye tiredly.  
"I'm looking for the painting they had of Guertenas in the lobby….it was right here!" Mary said irritably, "But this isn't it!"  
Mary gestured briefly at the painting currently standing in the display case, her expression irate.  
Garry sat up a little straighter but said nothing for a few moments.  
"I doubt they can just open that case whenever they want Mary…" he said at last, sounding doubtful.  
Mary shot Garry an annoyed glance before skipping over to him.  
"Look!" she urged, pulling on his arm.  
Garry groaned and flopped backwards into the bench once more.  
"Cummon! Get up!"  
Garry gave a load groan but stood up, "Fine….but can we call it a day after that…I'm dead beat…"  
Mary nodded jerkily and guided him to the painting.  
Upon reaching it Garry said nothing for a long time, his brow furrowing.

"Um..Mary…." he began, sounding a little perplexed, "This is….definitely the painting we saw coming in…"  
"No it wasn't!" Mary protested, "The one we saw coming in was….was…"  
_Why can't I remember? _Mary thought worriedly, staring at the unfamiliar painting, transfixed.  
"You're tired" Garry said after watching her stare at the painting, mouth slightly open, for a long time, "It's been a long day so we should get home…"  
Mary made no response, still staring.  
Garry couldn't work out what it was about the painting that was so interesting.  
Looking down at the small sign below the case Garry decided to read the short description.

_ Left Behind  
Dated 1__st__ November 1621 - This painting is thought  
to be the last of Guertenas life – completed a mere fortnight  
before his death. Experts debate over its inspiration – A  
lovers regret? – A tribute to his deceased sister? – A_

Growing tired of the awkwardly small text, Garry instead turned his attention to the painting. It was a simple portrait, far less extravagant that  
Guertenas earlier works but no less detailed. In it – a young girl sat hunched over upon a beaten looking stool– her small hands clasping a piece of  
blue cloth. Around her sat scattered easels and paintbrushes, abandoned upon the cold, dark, floor. The sole light in the room was provided by the  
moon, a pearly glow which trickled through the small window and bathed the girl in aerie light.

_Sure…it's really lifelike..._ _But all of this guys' stuff is…nothing special about it really. _Garry concluded.  
Deciding that it was time to leave, Garry turned to rouse Mary, however, looking at her expression he stopped short.

_Who is that girl? Why do I feel like I've seen her before…_  
Mary racked her brain urgently as she stared at the girl. She was wearing a red skirt and white shirt, both of which were old and frayed, covered  
here in there in flecks of paint and hung loosely around her neck was a tattered red tie, though not much of the original colour remained. Her brown  
hair flowed to just below her shoulders, the bangs covering her fringe and reaching her red eyes. Eyes which were downturned and glistening.

_She's crying. _Mary realized.  
Feeling something on her cheek Mary raised her own hand to wipe it away.

So was she.


	3. Poor Garry

Hello - another chapter! This will the only "slice of life" chapter. I felt I needed to include one before moving on with the story.

* * *

Garry strolled down the gravel drive slowly, enjoying the last of the summer weather.  
"See ya later Garry!" a friend called to his back.  
"See you on Monday" Garry replied, waving a hand behind him.  
Reaching the front door Garry did his usual ritual of patting every pocket in turn in an attempt to find his house key. When this failed he began riffling through his messenger  
bag, sifting through the disorganized mess of papers with a slightly resigned expression.  
"Gotcha…" Garry muttered triumphantly, grasping the small silver object wedged in the bottom corner.  
Stepping into the hallway Garry hung his bag and Burberry vest on the nearby hook before walking into the living room and collapsing ungracefully onto his favorite chair.  
"Only five…" Garry said to no one in particular as he checked the clock on the mantelpiece, "Got an hour or so I guess…"  
Reaching over lazily for the remote, Garry flicked the widescreen onto a familiar channel for background noise before retrieving his smartphone from his pocket.  
For a time Garry lounged in the chair, browsing his social networking site of choice and laughing occasionally at some of the oddities his class mates has committed whilst drunk.

Looking at a photo of his friends at a bar Garry couldn't help but feel a little downcast – between his job, his course and looking after Mary –he had almost no time to himself.  
Though he did particularly regret this, the pair of them needed money, and the paltry sum that the government provided did little but pay their bills. And Garry was determined  
not to let his education slip either, in fact, his determination had very much brought him to the top of his class, a feat that he would have seldom believed possible a few short  
years ago. And of course, looking after Mary was his top priority, the girl was somewhat…scatter brained…and he had no doubt that without him, she would be completely lost  
as to what to do. Something Garry would not allow – he cared for his adopted sister very much – in fact – the possibility that she was anything other than a positive in his life  
had never even crossed Garry's' mind.  
"Six…" Garry muttered, staring sideways at the clock, "Time to make dinner."  
Saying the words enthusiastically, Garry put his earlier brooding to the back of his mind as he loped into the kitchen to prepare the nights' meal.

Though the pair of them lived in a relatively small two bedroom house, courtesy of Garry's meagre income, the kitchen was spotless and well equipped. Cooking, something  
that Garry had been woeful at previously, had quickly become one of his passions once he started having to cook for them both and Garry took great pride in his ability to make  
"Almost anything edible" as Mary had once put it. With practiced movements, Garry began gathering and preparing the ingredients, throwing together Marys' favorite meal in  
celebration of the special occasion.

Just as he placed the food in the oven, Garry heard bell ring, three times, in quick succession.  
"Mary of course…" he sighed.  
He doubted that anyone one else in the world could ring a doorbell with that much enthusiasm.  
Knowing that Mary had all the patience of a child on Christmas morning, Garry made sure to walk needlessly slowly towards the front door before standing behind it for several  
seconds, watching Mary's silhouette on the other side bounce from side to side impatiently.

Another trio of rings.

"Ah Mary!" Garry said, opening the door slowly with an amused smirk on his face, "Sorry didn't hear you…"  
"Yeah right!" moaned Mary, darting under his arm and into the hallway before throwing her rucksack and school blazer unceremoniously in the direction of the coat rack and  
missing entirely.  
"You need to learn a little patience" chastised Garry, bending down and retrieving Marys' belongings.  
"_You _need to speed up!" Mary countered, "Oops!"  
A second later Garrys' vision was obscured by the end of a spectacularly ugly tie.  
"Show your uniform some respect…" Garry grumbled, pulling the ugly burgundy thing from his face and placing it beside the equally ugly burgundy blazer on the hook.  
Mary either ignored or did not hear the remark, her head instead turning in the direction of the kitchen as she took an uncertain sniff.  
"What for dinner?" she asked, though from the smile on her face Garry suspected that she already knew.  
"Your favourite" Garry replied offhandedly, "More importantly how was the assembly?"  
"Boring!" moaned Mary, kicking off her black school shoes and sending them flying into the living room, "I had to give a speech to the whole art class!"  
"Congratulations" Garry said, his otherwise good mood a little blunted by the fact he was now having to clamber over the back of the sofa to retrieve Marys projectile  
shoes, "Three years in a row!"

Since their visit to the museum two years ago, Mary had won the art award in her school every year, it seemed that she had been inspired by the work she saw there.

"Thanks!" Mary replied earnestly.  
Walking back into the lobby Garry saw that Mary was beaming proudly, her eyes fixed in one direction longingly.  
"And….all you care about is the food…" Garry sighed, walked past her and placing the shoes on the rack by the door.  
"That's because I'm _hungry…._" Mary whined, "How long till it's ready?"  
"Forty minutes or so" Garry replied.  
"Forty?!" Mary exclaimed, sounding mortified, "Can I have a snack?"  
Garry intended to turn to stare incredulously but decided it wasn't worth the effort.  
"No…you can't fill yourself up on sweets before dinner…" he said testily, sounding every bit like a typical exasperated parent.  
"Awww…" Mary groaned, "Fine….I'm taking a shower!"  
Without waiting for a reply Mary charged up the stairs with a sound as loud as a stampede, leaving a slightly worn out Garry staring after her.  
"She never changes…" Garry sighed.

This, for the most part, was true. Though she was a little taller, her features a tad sharper as she edged towards her teens - Marys' personality were much the same as  
ever – a ball of energy which was a colossal annoyance for anyone trying to get her to slow down. She seemed to have two settings, approaching something with the  
enthusiasm of one doing the thing they loved, or approaching with the enthusiasm of a man heading for the gallows. This huge distinction resulted in a collection of top  
grades, art, language, literature, IT – and a collection of absolutely appalling ones, maths and history being prime examples. Teachers were much the same, either bowled  
over by her overzealous dedication to her studies, or complete lack of interest. She was popular too, throwing her efforts into clubs and extra activities to meet new people  
with a level of enthusiasm which to Garry, the one paying closest attention to her, seemed a little off, as though she was desperately afraid of being alone. Though these  
vague fears remained unconfirmed as Garry often thought it impossible just because of how happy she was, always smiling and bouncing around the place. In fact Garry  
found her good mood somewhat infectious, it was impossible to be around someone so happy and not feel a little happy yourself. And yet…there was always this  
feeling…this strange thought in the back of his head that he was forgetting something important…

"AH!"

Jerked back to reality by a sharp cry, Garry immediately darted half way up the stairs before calling out.  
"Mary! You ok?" he shouted worriedly.  
"Yeah…the water was cold…" came a vague reply.  
"Try waiting a few seconds before jumping under the shower then….." Garry sighed, running a hand through his silver hair as was his custom.

"AAAH!" came another cry.  
"What now…" Garry muttered.  
"TOO HOT!" bellowed Mary, causing Garry to facepalm wholeheartedly before he moved back down the stairs, his train of thought forgotten.

"And then I threw it, and it sailed all the way across the class and landed straight in Axel's aphro!" Mary said enthusiastically.  
It was just past seven and the pair were seated in the dining room slash art gallery beside the kitchen, enjoying their meal. Well Mary was, Garry simply sat there in stunned  
silence as the girl shovelled inhumanly large volumes of food into her mouth whilst somehow still managing to fill him in on every moment of her day.  
_Kid could really turn heads at an eating contest. _ Garry found himself thinking as he watched her take a second helping without pausing for breath.  
"It took us like ten minutes to find it again! It. Was. EPIC"  
Finally subsiding Mary lapsed into silence and Garry took this as an opportunity to make a start on his own meal.  
"What did you do today?" Mary asked eagerly a minute later.  
Garry glanced up from his plate briefly. And then did a double take, noting with astonishment that Mary now sat behind a clean plate.  
"Crimany…" Garry muttered.  
"Wazzat? Some kinda science-y thing?" Mary asked, not understanding the word.  
"Don't worry…Uhm…" Garry began, trying to recall the days' events, "We were expanding on Newton's laws…" he said at last, remembering the deeply uninteresting lecture  
on motion.  
"Oh…that's the thing about protecting your PC from computer viruses right?" Mary asked, her eyebrows tightly knit.  
"No…that's _Norton…_and I don't think they have any laws…" replied Garry exasperatedly, "Newton is the physicist. You know…the one with the apple?"  
"Oh. _Him." _Said Mary, her expression brightening, "The crazy haired guy!"  
"No…that's Einstei- you know what…never mind…" Garry said, deciding to give the whole thing up as he turned his attention back to his meal.

"That was great…" Mary said happily after Garry laid his own knife and fork aside.  
"Thanks" Garry replied, leaning back in his chair, "Glad you enjoyed it."  
"Now what's for dessert?" Mary asked.  
Garry nearly fell sideways out of his chair as she said this.  
"Dessert?!" exclaimed Garry, his eyes wide, "You just finished enough food to feed a small army and you still want more?!"  
"Yep!" Mary replied, making a popping sound on the 'p'.  
"Ugh…" grumbled Garry.  
Truth be told there was very little left in the kitchen. Garry had been intending to go out the following morning to stock up on food for the week, having been expecting the  
large meal he had prepared for the night to be enough.  
"I guess there might be some ice-cream…" he said at last, "But we don't have any sauces or sprinkles or anything of the sort I'm afraid…"  
"That's fine I bought some toffee sauce on the way home!" Mary said immediately.  
_What sort of weirdo buys toffee sauce from a shop and nothing else?! _Garry thought desperately.  
However, choosing to not voice this question Garry simply replied, "Ok. Go in the front room and I'll bring it out in a minute."  
"Ok" Mary said, skipping past him and into the living room, "Don't forget the sprinkles!" she added behind her, leaving Garry slouched in his chair feeling an odd combination  
of complete exasperation and mild amazement at her foresight into dessert quality.  
Deciding to make a move lest he face the wrath of Mary without her daily intake of unhealthy junk food, a habit which Garry had yet to make an impact on for better or  
worse, Garry walked back into the kitchen and laid the tub of ice-cream on the side whilst he did the washing.

"Hahaha!"  
Garry found himself momentarily distracted by the sound of Mary's borderline psychotic laughter from the front room.  
"What are you watching?" he called out.  
"The Simpsons!" Mary replied.  
Garry shook his head as he began scooping the last of the ice-cream into a bowl and adding a generous helping of sauce and sprinkles on top, Marys' obsession with that  
show always mystified Garry, who found it somewhat stupid.  
As Garry entered the front room he found Mary laughing heartily as the main character of the show, Homer, began a firefight with what seemed to be one of  
Leonardo da Vinci's paintings.  
"Bwaha…his trapped…. in the…painting…." Mary said, her voice trailing off oddly.  
"Marry…you ok?" Garry asked, not failing to notice her sudden change in tone.  
Mary continued to stare at the screen, her expression seemingly frozen in with her eyes wide and lips slightly parted.  
"Hmm…enough of that for one night I think" Garry said, grabbing the remote and changing the channel.  
"….OOH….Ice-cream!" Mary exclaimed suddenly, snatching the bowl from Garry's hands and digging in.  
"Tch….You know you didn't need to lure me into a false sense of security...I would have given you the bowl anyway…." Garry muttered, settling himself into the seat beside her  
and surfing through the TV channels.

A few hours later Garry sat in his study. A tiny room, dominated by the obnoxiously large computer and desk as well as several stacks of books and papers which he had  
acquired over the years. After watching a movie with him, Mary had all but fell asleep in Garry's arms, prompting him to carry her upstairs and into the bathroom with a forceful  
"Brush your teeth" followed by a hasty "Goodnight" when she emerged a few minutes later, eyes bleary.  
_So much for unlimited energy I guess. _Thought Garry as he browsed the internet, bringing himself up to date with the day's news as he always did.  
"Slim picking today…" he whispered to himself, listening to the round up on as low a volume as possible so as not to wake Mary.  
A single car crash seemed to be the days' only solid story. With the rest of the news being taken by fluff such as 'The cat that could' and "New monorail in Ogdonville" comprising  
the rest of the show.  
"What a bunch of rubbish…" Garry muttered, flicking through the other tabs in the hope of finding a half way decent story.

Music

_ "New tour for supergroup McBusted"_

Film

_ "Gravity is a must see"_

Drama

_ "Day of the Doctor set to reach record viewers"_

Arts

_ "Guertena Exhibit on last outing"_

Sport

_ "Keisuke Honda to Zenit?"_

"Tch…nothing" Garry concluded, barely sparing a glance for any of the headlines as he shut off the machine in disappointment and glanced over the clock, "Half eleven…may  
as well call it an early night…" he concluded, getting up out of the chair and tiptoeing into the bathroom.  
After changing into his nightwear Garry laid in bed for what felt like hours, feeling suddenly restless.  
"Darn sleep schedule" he complained aloud, staring up at the ceiling, "Still…I have to fall asleep eventually…" he reasoned, closing his eyes.  
He was at this for several minutes, unable to shake the strange foreboding feeling.

That was when Mary started screaming.

* * *

Another chapter done. This one took quite a while to write actually. I find it very difficult to make character and setting descriptions fit into the story naturally.

Next chapter will be set in the museum. In the meanwhile I nod my head to the one person in the world who understood all of the vague references I threw into this chapter.


	4. The Hanged Man

Hello again! Another chapter. This one was quite fun to write as I prefer writing the sections which take place in the gallery.

I'm just going to thank the people reading and following this - it really motivates my lazy ass.

Next chapter can either follow Ib or Garry. Let me know which you would rather see first.

* * *

_I don't have much time. _Mary thought desperately as she charged through the darkness, relying on her knowledge of the layout of the gallery to guide her.  
"Ugh!" she exclaimed, catching her shoulder unexpectedly upon one of the brass braziers which held the unlit candles which lined the passageway.  
Rubbing her shoulder Mary slid against the wall, her mind in overdrive.  
_I can't stop now…if they catch me…_  
Reeling from the very thought Mary called out in a hushed voice, "Light, I can't _see."_  
In response the candles lining the wall flickered to life one after another, bathing Mary in a dim red light.  
_Easier for me. _Mary reasoned. _But easier for them as well._  
Casting a wary look at her right for signs of pursuit Mary found herself greeted by nothing but the blank walls of the passage, stretching onwards into the  
darkness.  
_But they haven't caught me yet…_  
The thought giving her strength, Mary pushed herself from the wall.

"Hhsssh…"  
With a sharp intake of breath Mary froze on the spot as she stepped upon something.  
_How did I drop that?! _Mary thought urgently as she stared down in terror at the object upon the floor. _If I'd left it here…_  
Bending down and scooping the object up in one hand Mary cast one last furtive glance over her shoulder before continuing her retreat.

She didn't get very far.

_Mary...  
_

The four letters scrawled upon the wall caused Mary to pause in spite of herself. They were in fresh blue paint; it slowly ran down the wall.

_They will chase you forever Mary..._

Mary stared, transfixed, as the letters formed, bleeding forth from the solid wall.

_They will catch you Mary..._

Stifling a shriek Mary skittered back several paces, slamming into the opposite wall with a dull thud.  
"Stop…" she whispered.  
It had been an awful idea to bring outsiders here. From the moment they had arrived the gallery had been lashing out indiscriminately, even Mary had been  
in danger. Suddenly Mary became aware of something dripping upon her neck from behind. Spinning, she found herself facing another message, this time  
a sickening shade of red.

_They will kill you Mary..._

No sooner had Mary read the words than the final message appeared, its contents churning Marys' stomach.

_But not if you kill them first..._

Mary stared at the words for a long while, watching as the paint slowly faded and removed any trace that they had ever been there.  
"Of course…" she breathed at last, "It's so simple…"  
Her eyes gleaming with a malicious glint, Mary stared down at the object she clutched in her hand – a blue rose, hardly the worse for wear even after she  
had stepped upon it earlier. It was clear to her now why she had made sure to get it into her possession.  
"Hehehe…..ahahahahaha…..ahahahaHAHA!"  
Giggling maniacally, Mary withdrew the pallet knife she kept in her pocket at brought it against the surface of the stem, preparing to sever the petals in one  
go. However, something stopped her.  
"You're no fun at all _Garry…" _Marry muttered, a crazy glint in her eyes which were rigidly affixed to the rose, _"_So let's have some fun…let's…_play a game_…"  
Placing the knife back in her pocket Mary instead bought the rose up to eye level and, holding it in both hands delicately, she slowly and deliberately plucked  
a petal from the rose, watching as it drifted slowly to the ground.  
"He loves me!" she said happily.  
She plucked another petal.  
"He loves me not…"  
Another petal.  
"He loves me!"  
With this Mary proceeded down the corridor, far slower than before, continuing her chant as each petal fell.

There was nothing for her to fear now.

_I wonder what the outside world is like..._ Mary mused, idly plucking another petal from the flower.  
_I've seen about it in some of those dusty books….villages and towns, forests and jungles, mountains and oceans…it looks so huge! And I'm sure it's full of  
really interesting people! I want to befriend them all! Coz' I have to make up for lost time…_  
Plucking another petal Mary noted with the back of her mind that flower was looking seriously unhealthy now, a few lone petals clinging forlornly to the stalk.  
_I'm sure they'll like me…I've got lots of interesting stories to tell them…And even if they don't I've got…_  
Mary thought of the girl which Garry had in tow. Her new best friend.  
_She won't be mad at me for this will she? _Mary thought.  
Pausing in her continued destruction of Garry's rose for a few moments Mary came to halt.  
_I mean…when I asked her what she'd do if only two people could leave… she said she'd leave with me…she wouldn't lie just to make me feel better…would  
she…?_  
Mary thought about this for a while longer, her earlier mirth fading.  
"No…of course not…"  
Reassuring herself out loud, Mary wrinkled her brow and took a deep breath, steeling herself.  
She then grasped the rose forcefully in her right hand before tearing away the last of the petals, watching the shreds fall to the floor with a blank expression.  
"Is…it over?"  
Leaving the question hovering in the air Mary stared back over her shoulder, straining her ears.

"Garry? GARRY!"  
Someone - a girl - was screaming, repeating the word over and over in an anguished tone which echoed along the corridor all the way to Mary.  
Mary felt her already tenuous conviction shatter.  
"Oh no…" Marry whispered, falling to the floor and clutching her head, "Nonononono…NO!"  
Dimly, Mary realized the real reason that she had not simply destroyed the rose the moment she had been given the chance.

She didn't want to.

She could not have brought herself to destroy the rose – to end Garry's life. So she had turned into a game, subconsciously ignoring the truth. And  
now – when she had finally realized her mistake – it was too late.

She was a murderer.

"I'm sorry…" whispered Mary, letting the stalk fall to the floor, ""I- huh?"  
From the new angle Mary noticed something - A single, tiny, petal – clinging to the back of the stem.  
Her eyes going wide, she sprung to her feet and instantly began sprinting wildly down the corridor, the rose and its one petal clasped firmly in her hand.

"Please don't be too late…please don't be too late…" Mary chanted as she raced up the steps a short while later, taking them two at a time and praying silently  
not to trip.  
It wouldn't hurt _her _but each second was precious. She may already be too late. Reaching the top of the stairs and darting forwards Mary dispelled the yellow  
vines which guarded the room before her with an impatient flick of her wrist, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she pushed herself to maintain her pace.  
Despite her task Mary couldn't help but pause and give the room in which she now stood a despairing look. She had not been here in a long time, ever since she  
had created her sanctuary in fact. It was not a place she wanted to be.

The room was large and hexagonal, with white marble pillars lining it in a circle. The ceiling, a high dome complete with its own stain glass mosaic, sat high above  
Marys head. Unlike the rest of the gallery the room was bright and in spectacular condition, as if it was maintained diligently – the splendid grey patio and white  
walls giving it an airy and welcoming look. Along these walls sat numerous candles, sitting proudly in their glistening silver braziers and burning brightly, basking the  
room in a homely glow. And yet for all its splendour and its invitingness, the room was amongst the worst in the gallery – a mockery in which Mary had awoken – its  
grand design taunting Mary, reminding her that she was in a cage, a gilded one perhaps, but still a cage none the less. However, refusing to wait too long and risk  
time making her decision worthless, Mary walked forwards, heading for the sole piece of artwork in the room.

Mary found it strangely surreal, looking at herself upon the canvas. The painting which Guertena had created looked every bit as real as she did, sitting in its gilded  
frame upon the wall directly opposite the door. Looking at it with apprehension in her eyes Mary wondered if she could really follow through with her new plan. If she  
simply stopped now - did nothing - Garry would die. And she would be free to leave the gallery at long last.

It was incredibly tempting.

"No…" muttered Mary, tearing her eyes from the painting and instead grasping the small vase at its base, "I can't…not like this…"  
Shaking with suppressed emotion, Mary dropped the rose into the vase before she could change her mind.  
_It's out of my hands now… _She thought, collapsing against the wall besides the painting and closing her eyes.

Footsteps coming towards her.  
Blinking tiredly, Mary opened her eyes and raised her head to stare directly at the door through which a figure had just emerged.  
"You….._you…._Khh…"  
His face was unlike anything Mary had ever seen before – she would scarcely have believed the man was capable of such a look.  
Garry stood several meters from her, his face extremely pale, glistening with sweat, hair completely ragged and yet very much alive. However, he was the very picture  
of fury, eyes wild and mouth open, revealing gritted teeth. His body too, was tense, standing ramrod straight and shaking slightly, with his fists clenched with such force  
that the knuckles whitened.  
"You murderer" he spat.  
As he spoke a little blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.  
"You want to kill me? You want to kill _her?" _Garry continued, "…I _won't _let that happen"  
Taking a step forward menacingly; Garry locked eyes with Mary for a second, then at the rose which sat in the vase, still looking in bad shape.  
Then slowly, deliberately, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

Only now did Mary realize her error. She had assumed that in letting the rose live Garry would simply leave her alone and yet, the way it looked. It was obvious that he  
believed Mary was still trying to kill him, and had somehow failed to do it quickly. And now…

_His going to kill me…_ Mary thought the words with a strange numbness, as though watching the situation from the perspective of a bystander. _His actually going to kill  
me…_

Mary that she had to speak, to try and convince him that she had given up, and yet - The words would not come. She simply sat there in silence, frozen as Garry  
slowly closed the distance between them.  
"I should…" Garry whispered, reaching into his pocket and keeping his eyes affixed upon Mary, "…I should…"  
Mary watched him approach. She had no doubt that if she wanted to, she could reach over and destroy the rose, tear into a hundred tiny shreds, before Garry could  
reach her and yet she knew that she would not. And so she simply sat there, waiting for the end.  
"Demon…" Garry snarled, reaching her at last and withdrawing the object from his pocket.  
_His lighter…_ Mary guessed. _His going to burn the canvas…his smarter than I guessed…_

Garry lunged.

The next thing Mary knew, she was lying flat against a hard surface, her joints aching from exertion.  
"I got it…" someone was saying, "She…didn't put up much of a fight…"  
Pushed to exhaustion, Mary simply lay there, listening to the conversation.  
"The rose was fine?" a girl asked, her voice full of wonder.  
"Yeah…I don't understand...either…"  
Mary heard a dull thud as something collided.  
"I thought I'd lost you…" the girl said again, her voice muffled.  
Evidently she was embracing the man.  
"Yeah…me too…"  
"But…" the girl began, her voice clearing as they broke contact, "Now what do we do…"  
"We keep going…" the man replied immediately.  
"…and what about Mary…"  
"We…leave her…" the man replied after a short pause, his voice heavy.  
Mary simply lay there, contemplating the situation. Obviously Garry and her 'friend' had caught up with her. And, although they did not know it, they now stood but a  
few minutes from freedom.  
_Why didn't he just kill me…it has to be better than staying here…forever…_

"We can't…"  
_What?_  
"What?"  
Garry voiced Mary's reaction, his voice suddenly urgent.  
"You can't…we can't take her with us!"  
"Why not?" the girl replied shortly.  
Footsteps echoed around the room, evidently Garry had begun pacing.  
"…She's not _real! _In the same way that we shouldn't be in her world…she shouldn't be in ours!"  
"But we are in her world…" the girl replied, her clam voice offsetting Garry's, "And now we've met her…we can't…just leave her all alone…"  
"She's been alone this long!" Garry countered.  
"And look what it did to her!" the girl replied, her own voice rising a little.  
Garry made no reply for a time, probably taken aback. The girl made use of his brief silence, continuing her speech.  
"We at least have to talk to her…hear her side of the story…and then…maybe…_just maybe…_we can take her back with us…"  
Mary felt a little jolt as she heard this.

_No…don't do this to me…you…don't realize…you don't know about the rules…_

"I'm….not sure…" Garry replied hesitantly.  
"That's why you should let me do it" the girl responded.

_You can't…someone has to stay…someone always has to stay…_

Mary heard footsteps approach her slowly, a far lighter footfall than Garry's.  
"Mary…" a voice said tenderly, "Can you hear me…?"  
Blinking back tears Mary slowly opened her eyes and stared up at the face of the girl…

And then the entire world split apart.

Crashes, ringing, and pain. It felt like Mary's head would be torn apart by the force of it as the world melted away - crashing down around her and then…blackness.  
"Mary. Mary….MARY!"  
Someone was calling her name, shaking her hard.  
"Hey hey…it's just a nightmare!"  
The voice was instantly familiar and yet so different from the way she had just heard it, spoken now in a tone of concern rather than anger.  
"Blast! Is this sleep paralysis? Do I need a doctor. DAMMIT"  
Mary tried to open her eyes but they felt like blast doors, sealed shut.  
"Erm…ah…screw it!"

Mary was jolted back to reality as a sizeable amount of water slammed into her face, causing her to cough and shiver violently.

"Ah…thank goodness…" Garry said, leaning back on the bed and releasing his hold upon Marys frame, "You had me scared for a while there…"  
Mary made no response, her expression turning to one of pure horror.  
"Hey…Mary…its ok…you're back with me…it was just a dream…it can't hurt you…"  
Garrys voice grew yet more worried, he leaned forwards, unsure what to do as Mary opened her mouth again and again yet saying nothing.  
"Mary…what is it…"

Finally, Mary found her voice and uttered a single, strangled, syllable.

"Ib…"


	5. Memories Cranies

Another chapter! And on a Sunday too...what a surprise... /s  
I'm not a huge fan of flashbacks but I thought that they were called for here.

I'm unsure what to do for the chapter after this. I've been toying with the idea of doing a couple on Guertena but at the same time I could also conitnue  
the main story from either Mary or Ib's perspective. Let me know what you think.

Also. On a side note. If anyone wonders why I made Garry think "that". Really I think most people would have considered it.

* * *

"No! NO!"  
Garry was up and moving before his mind had time to process the action. He leapt from his bed and darted for the hallway door, grabbing an old tennis  
racket from beside his dresser as he went.  
Gary's first, likely irrational, thought was that there had been a break-in. And so he burst into Mary's room a few seconds later, racket in hand, and  
immediately scanned the darkness for signs of an intruder. However, looking over the darkened outlines of Mary's things, Garry found only her, sitting  
bolt upright in her bed.  
"Hey, what's wrong?" Garry asked, abandoning the racket by the door and moving swiftly to Mary's side.  
Mary made no response and, from this close, Garry could see her face - white as a sheet and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.  
"Mary…Mary!" Garry said loudly, grasping her frame and giving her a light shake.  
When Mary made no response, Garry grew more worried.  
"Hey, hey…it's just a nightmare! Garry said, giving her a rougher shake.  
_Still no response?_  
Garry was seriously concerned now. Mary had had nightmares before, just like anyone, but this was different, unnatural, her face was ashen and her eyes  
wide and terrified as though she were in a trance.  
"Blast! Is this sleep paralysis? Do I need a doctor. DAMMIT"  
Garry cast his eyes around the room in a panic, searching for Mary's mobile phone. However, his eyes locked upon something else upon the bedside table.  
"Erm…ah…screw it!"  
Deciding to at least try - Garry grabbed the glass of water Mary had left there and threw it at her face, dousing her in lukewarm water.  
"Uh!"  
Mary coughed and spluttered as it struck her face.  
Leaning back and releasing his hold Garry sighed in relief.  
"Ah…thank goodness…"  
However Mary's expression remained troubled, if anything it was worse now.  
"Hey…Mary…it's ok…you're back with me…it was just a dream…it can't hurt you…" Garry said, hoping to calm her, "Mary…what is it…"  
Mary said nothing and again Garry's mind drifted to the phone, perhaps the hospital could offer some advice at the least.  
"Ib…" Mary whispered in a strangled tone, breaking the protracted silence.  
"Ib?" Garry replied, confused.  
Mary said nothing more, staring at him, eyes wide.  
_What the hell does that mean? And why does it sound so familiar…_

"…Mhhhh…."  
Lying face down, his muscles aching dully.  
"What's this? The pain's gone…"  
He had been in a bad way. He remembered falling to the floor.  
"Oh…"  
Looking up, Garry realized he was not alone. Above him stood a young girl, her red eyes a mixture of concern and trepidation.  
"Eek!" Garry exclaimed, falling backwards as he remembered his earlier run in with the lady in red, "What….what is it this time?! I've nothing left!"  
However the girl didn't seem hostile, in fact she seemed quite the opposite.  
"Wait…could you have been…someone from the gallery?" Garry stammered.  
The girl gave the slightest nod, her demeanor still cautious.  
Garry noted this and heaved himself to his feet, walking over to the wall and leaning against it for support.  
"So you are! Thank goodness there's someone here besides me!" Garry said, relieved, "Do you know how we got here…"  
The girl shook her head, still not responding aloud. She seemed rather afraid of him, keeping a wary distance.  
"Hmmm…me neither…" Garry sighed, "Any chance you know of a way out?"  
Again she shook her head. Garry was unsurprised, after all, if she had found a way out - why on Earth would she still be here.  
"I see…so your situation is much the same as mine…" Garry said, running a hand through his hair, "And this rose…"  
Garry looked down at the blue rose, the girl responded to his silent request, closing the distance between them and placing it in his extended  
hand, "When it takes damage…wounds appear on my body…"  
Garry cast his mind back to the fight with the painting, supressing a shudder he continued, "Still…best to…not dwell on that…"  
The girl had relaxed slightly; she leaned against the wall next to him, heaving a small sigh.  
"Thank you for recovering it…" Garry said, giving her a serious look, the girl returned it for a moment before looking away, a slight blush revealing her  
embarrassment, "Now. Let us find the way out!"  
Garry said the words with enthusiasm, pushing himself from the wall as he said them.  
The girl on the other hand, seemed surprised, giving him an odd look.  
"Come on…uhm…" Garry hesitated, "Ah! I still haven't asked your name! How foolish of me…"  
The girl didn't respond to his invitation to speak - Garry decided to prompt her.  
"Well, I'm Garry!"  
Garry thrust his hand out, hoping to finally coax a response from his silent companion.  
She hesitated for a split second, doubtlessly deliberating whether she could trust him.  
"Ib…" the girl said at last.  
"Ah…Ib is it…It's dangerous for a child to be left alone…so I shall stick with you!" Garry replied.

"Ah...morning Ib, how are you?"  
Garry noted that his companion was now awake; he walked over to her quickly, concerned.  
"I had a nightmare…" Ib replied, looking shaken.  
_Poor kid. _Garry thought, thinking of the painting with its horrid smile and Ib's fainting spell.  
"I can't say I'm surprised…" Garry said soothingly, kneeling down beside her, "Being exposed to such frightful sights…"  
Ib nodded, continuing to look downcast.  
"Check my coat pocket" Garry said, a sudden thought striking him.  
Ib seemed confused but obliged, reaching into the coat pocket she recovered a small piece of candy.  
"You can have that…feel free to eat it" Garry said with a smile.  
"Thanks…" Ib said slowly, eyeing him with a strange look.

"If someone did that to a girl…I'd tell them off for sure!"  
Garry was in a daze, something seemed very wrong and yet he couldn't put his finger on it.  
"GARRY!"  
Something collided with his face hard, shocking him.  
"Huh…"  
Reality flooded back to him. Garry was sitting upon the floor, surrounded by the eerie looking rabbit ornaments. Dominating his vision however – was  
the young girl before him, her face distressed – upon the verge of tears.  
"Ib…?" Garry asked, confused, "What's going on…"  
Ib made no response, instead lunging forwards and crushing his waist with a hug.|  
"Whoa- Ib?!"  
"I was…so worried…" Ib muttered, her voice muffled by his clothing.  
"I…don't know what happened but…sorry about that…Ib…" Garry replied, patting her clumsily on the head with a relieved smile.

"That…it can't be…"  
Standing in the darkened room, an expression of mutual horror on their faces, Ib and Garry surged forwards in unison, heading for the young blonde  
haired girl who now held an instantly recognizable red rose in her hand.  
"Mary!" Garry exclaimed, stopping short a few feet from her.  
"Oh…Ib and Garry! Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked, toying with the rose absentmindedly.

Garry and Ib remained silent. Garry's eyes wandered towards the disturbing doll at Mary's feet, its face stretched into an off looking smile.  
"But anyway, lookit! I just got this…pretty isn't it!" Mary said after a short pause, her face lighting up as she showed them Ib's rose.  
Feeling intensely ill at ease Garry took a wary step forward.  
"Mary…that rose…please give it back to Ib…"  
Mary looked perplexed, she tilted her head.  
Turning her gaze to Ib she asked, "Ib…you want this back?"  
"Please…yes…" Ib replied in a small voice, taking her own tentative step forwards.  
"Well…hmm…"  
Mary furrowed her brow, seemingly in deep thought.  
"Wanna trade Garry's rose for it?"

It seemed as though time had frozen.

Ib stiffened, her expression turning to one of shock. Garry meanwhile, slumped his shoulders.  
_Of course…_ He thought sadly. _Of course you want that…_  
"You see…" Mary continued, smiling happily, "I like red…and yellow too! But blue…it's my absolute favourite!"  
Ib said nothing, her expression completely frozen in terror - Taking it as a cue Garry stepped forwards.  
"Sure…" he muttered.  
From the corner of his eye Garry noticed as Ib's head snapped up to look at him.  
"Wha…what…really?" Mary asked, genuinely surprised for what Garry suspected was the first time, "O-Ok!"  
Garry stepped forwards and held his rose out, slowly Mary did the same, for a split second the two made contact and, briefly, Garry considered simply  
breaking her arm and taking both Ib and Mary's rose.  
_It would be easy…_ A horrid voice said in the back of his head.  
_No…if I do that…those. Those things….they'll hurt us…they'll hurt Ib…_  
Garry forced the disturbing thought away and like that it was done, Mary pirouetted on the spot, holding the rose aloft.  
"Pretty flower!" she exclaimed jubilantly, "Come on…let's go!"  
Immediately she skipped off, exuberant.  
Once she was out of sight Ib turned to him.  
"Garry…I'm….I'm sorry…" she said, tears welling in the corner of her eyes.  
"Hey!" Garry exclaimed, putting on a brave face even as he felt the fear clamp down upon his chest, "Don't worry. We'll just set after her and get it back!"  
"Really…?" Ib asked, voice thick.  
"Really" Garry replied.

"Garry are you ok…Garry? What's wrong!?"  
They were standing in the corridor, Garry had fallen against the wall, clutching it for support as pain clamped down upon him from every direction at once.  
"Ib…I don't want to lie to you…but I don't want to tell you the truth either…"

"Garry…I thought I'd lost you!"  
They were in the large room now, Ib was hugging him once more, her voice thick.  
"Yeah…me too…" Garry replied.

"Only two people…can leave…one…has to stay…"  
Mary was explaining the gallery and her plan to the pair of them, her voice distant, Ib turned to him with fearful eyes.

"You don't need to stay…I will"  
They were standing by _The Painted World. _Escape was so close. And yet they couldn't reach it. At least…not all of them…

"I'll come back and rescue you…I _will not _leave you…"  
He and Mary were standing by the painting, Ib stood alone.  
"This is not goodbye…" Garry iterated, his voice ringing with conviction as he stepped into the painting.  
"It is…" Ib replied, so softly that she thought he must not have heard.  
_No…I can't leave! _Garry thought desperately, trying to reverse his step.

But it was too late.

"AAAH" Garry shouted.  
He fell backward from Mary's bed, lading painfully upon the floor.  
"Garry…are you ok…" Mary said distantly.

Garry hesitated for a moment, noting that he was back in the present before uttering the singly most out of character word he had ever said.  
"You remember…" Mary said slowly.  
"Yeah…I do…" Garry replied, pushing himself to his feet and burying his head in his hands, "How did I forget…"  
"Some kind of magic...I…I didn't know…"  
Mary's voice was odd, almost pleading.  
"Kuh…well…I'm leaving" Garry stated, his mind kicking into action.  
"Of course you are…" Mary whispered.  
"You'll have to stay with a friend" Garry said, mentally listing his acquaintances for a trustworthy sitter.  
"Yeah…" Mary replied monosyllabically, her eyes glued to the bed sheets.  
"Hey…" Garry said, catching her chin and lifting it so that she was looking at him, "Don't worry…I'll be back in no time with Ib"  
Mary's face changed to one of confusion, "Huh…You're…coming back…?" she asked.  
Taken aback by Mary's pessimism Garry took a moment to reply, "Of course I am! That gallery is no match for the likes of me!"  
"But…don't you hate me…?" Mary whispered.  
"What? How could I hate you?" Garry asked, taken aback, "Oh…_oh…"_  
Mary's mood took on a new light as comprehension dawned on him.  
"You think…that because I remember…I'd hate you…" Garry said slowly, "That's…."

Mary looked away.

"Definitely not true" Garry said firmly.  
"But you said…you…were leaving me…" Mary said.  
"Of course! The gallery is dangerous!" Garry exclaimed, "No place for my sister…"  
Mary let out a sob and leaned forwards to hug him.  
Garry opened his arms, expectant.

"Idiot!" she shouted loudly, bowling into him.  
"Wha-" Garry began, but Mary cut him off.  
"You think you can march off to the gallery alone and leave me here?!" she exclaimed, "I'm _obviously _going too!"  
"Like hell you are!" Garry replied, pushing her from him and giving her a stern glare, "You're not going anywhere near the place! Don't you realize  
how dangerous it is!?"  
"Of course I do!" Mary replied, "That's why I have to come! You wouldn't last two seconds without me!"  
"I managed fine alone last-"  
"You ended up on the floor after a fistfight with a _painting_!" Mary screeched, cutting him off once more.  
Garry made no reply, embarrassed.  
"And besides, how would you even go about _finding _her? Let alone getting her out!" Mary continued.  
"Er…I'll…"  
"Make it up as you go along?!" Mary said incredulously, "Great idea!" she added sarcastically.  
"But-"  
"I know that gallery better than anyone!" Mary said, shuddering ever so slightly at the memory, her voice returning to normal, "You have to go  
with me…"  
"Ugh…" Garry muttered, "It will be dangerous…maybe worse than last time…"  
"No it won't!" Mary replied, "It's Ib in there not…not…"  
Mary's voice trailed off and Garry nodded reluctantly, he knew that was true.  
_It seems I am just bad at winning arguments…No debate club for Garry…_

"Fine…" he sighed, defeated, "We'll go…together…"  
"You bet we will!" Mary said immediately, making to leap from her bed for immediate action.  
"_But" _Garry stressed, grabbing her by the arm, "We go prepared"  
Mary nodded, struggling against his hold.  
"That means…we don't do anything tonight…"  
"What-"  
This time it was Garry's turn to cut her off.  
"We can't do anything until we clear our heads…come up with a plan…and for that we'll need a good night's sleep…"  
"But Ib's still in there!" Marry protested.  
"I know…" Garry replied.  
A mental image of Ib alone in the gallery flashed before Garry's eyes, causing him to wince.  
"But…she will have to wait another day or two…we need to be on top of this…" he said at last.  
"One day" Marry replied unhappily, "Then we go save her…"  
Garry nodded, accepting that that was the best offer he would get.  
"Then we go save her" he agreed.

_Meanwhile…_

Amidst the darkness a young girl woke. Rubbing her eyes she approached the nearby wall.  
"A new day…" she said impassively, scratching another line into it with her index finger, "I wonder how many of those there have been…"

The tally dominated the wall in front of her.

Tens of thousands of lines stretching onwards into the darkness...


	6. All Alone

Hello again! No chapter last week because i had an exam.

This chapter is set in the gallery. It's a very description heavy chapter - Not a lot of dialogue - and sets the stage for the  
rest of the story really.

* * *

"Liar…traitor…Judas…"

The girl had been wandering back and forth for hours - always muttering to herself in the same flat tone. Watching her, in  
silent vigil as always, were a trio of mannequins, their unburdened necks twisting to follow her movement as she continued  
her monologue.  
"Bet you enjoyed yourselves eh...living carefree off the freedom paid for with my life…tch…"  
The girl paused in her pacing at last; turning now to face the mannequins she marched straight to their position without a  
word and, after they had hastily parted to make way for her, she placed her palm against the wall.  
Here she stood for a few seconds, staring intently at the seemingly random piece of wall until a muffled crack was heard. A  
moment later the wooden paneling slid aside, revealing the tight, pitch black passageway that it concealed.  
If the claustrophobic, damp, interior in any way affected the girl, she did not show it – she stepped into the passage and  
began walking down it at a steady pace without a moment's hesitation. Behind her, the mannequins followed and, as soon  
as the four of them were in the passage together, the panel slid back into place, sealing them inside.

"Two hundred and fourteen….two hundred and sixteen…two hundred and eighteen…"  
After some time the girl began counting aloud with every second step she took, breaking the otherwise dead silence in a  
hushed tone.  
"Two hundred and eighty two…two hundred and eighty four…here…"  
Stopping suddenly the girl reached out into the darkness and placed her hand upon the wall she knew would be there and  
waited patiently.

"…"

However, after almost a minute had passed she began to grow restless, shuffling her weight from foot to foot she muttered  
to herself, "Open…you piece of rubbish…open…"  
Unfortunately, the wall seemed unwilling and, after another minute or so of waiting, the girl lashed out with her leg.  
The paneling, weakened from decay, fell aside easily, allowing the girl to step into another passageway beyond.  
"Fix it…" she muttered to the mannequins behind her, "Anyone could see that passage as it stands now…"  
With this she continued on, not bothering to spare a glance for the mannequins she knew would be hastening to comply with  
her request.

Moving at a steady pace as she moved through the familiar corridors, it did not take long for the girl to reach her destination.  
"Here again…" the girl muttered bitterly, appraising the red vines with a look of mild disgust.  
Walking forward, the girl passed through the door, the vines weaving aside at her approach.

The sight that greeted her was a familiar one.

A large hexagonal room with white pillars, cracked and weathered, lining it in a circle. A high domed ceiling, the skeletal remains  
of a mosaic clinging to it forlornly whilst the majority lay upon the floor, creating a hazardous stretch of shattered glass upon  
the hard, grey floor which was barely visible – it's almost every inch covered in some manner of art equipment. Braziers lined  
the walls, holding candles burned to little more than a puddle of grey, bathing the room in a patchy, half glow which highlighted  
the dust particles which floated about, giving the room a grainy look. The atmosphere was oppressive, with a damp, stale feel  
to the air which left one feeling nauseated.

The girl kept her eyes low as she skirted round the edge of the room so as to avoid the shards of glass – she was only  
interested in the space below the painting opposite the entrance and once she reached it – the girl offered little more than a  
glance for the thing itself – a portrait of a young girl – sitting in a weather-beaten old frame with the canvas decayed and the  
paint faded.

At first glance, a bystander could be forgiven for not realizing that the girl in the painting and the one looking at it were one and  
the same. There were similarities – certainly. Same height, same build, same age, but they ended there. Firstly, their clothes were  
different. Though both girls wore a red skirt and black socks, the ones of those in the painting were in a far better state than  
the ones worn by its spectator - whose own were covered in specks of paint with their thread showing where they had damaged  
and repaired many times. The red shoes in the painting were almost unidentifiable upon the other girl as well, with the soles torn  
and peeling, the heels worn away. The shirt which the girl in the painting wore was barely visible upon the other girl, hidden behind  
a moulded old blue coat which was several sizes too big for her and a red ribbon which lay loosely around her neck, its ends frayed  
and tattered. The differences did not end at their clothing either. The girl in the painting had her brown hair fall straight about her  
face, the fringe cut just above her eyes. The girl looking upon the painting had it fall about her in a disorganised tangle of split  
ends and outliers which fell across her face, covering her left eye from view. Within the sole visible eye lay the starkest difference  
of all. Oddly – the paintings eyes were alight with sorrow, giving them a very real look.

The girl whom was looking at the paintings eyes were lifeless and dead – a black void.

Ib did not like the painting in the least, it brought back memories, and painful ones at that. Ones that she wished she could forget.  
"Liar…" she muttered, searching about the pile of art equipment before her for the object of her interest.  
_I won't abandon you…_  
"A little contradictory…given you were leaving me…"  
_I'll come back…_  
"Then where are you…"  
_…and get you out of here…_  
"Well I'm still here…"  
_This is not goodbye…_  
"Here waiting…"

The days following Garry and Mary's departure had been horrific. Hearing the galleries occupants close in upon her, Ib had flown  
from the scene, paying no heed to her heading as she worked her way through room after room, corridor after corridor, finally  
finding a small dark space behind a painting to hide in. She had stayed in this space for days; curled up against the cold stone,  
until eventually she had mustered her courage. Peeking forth through the tiniest of cracks Ib had immediately found herself facing  
one of the headless mannequins – leaning forward expectantly. At the time Ib had been convinced that she was finished, that the  
mannequin would kill her. However, it made no move and after a few minutes Ib decided to move towards it – it moved back at  
her approach, moving aside so that she could pass it easily. It was at this moment that Ib realized that she, like Mary, would no  
longer be targeted by the exhibits.

She was part of the gallery too.

The next few years had passed in a lonesome, though not all together horrible manner. Ib travelled the gallery, acquainting herself  
with its occupants and layout, and it was during this time that Ib found that she and Garry had barely scratched the surface of the  
place. It was gargantuan – perhaps even larger than a city – with near endless rooms containing not just art – but all manner of  
things - amazing and terrifying in equal measure. There were rooms filled with portraits and statues and incredible landscapes.  
Rooms of impossibilities – endless stairs and trees – paradoxes of perception and science. And linking them all was a vast series of  
passageways, some plain to see and some deviously hidden in the most unlikely of places. Many a time Ib found that she was  
lost, and yet always the mannequins would eventually appear, guiding her back to a part of the gallery which she knew well. There  
were libraries too, covering everything from classical literature, to modern fiction, to notes from Guertena himself. It was these than  
Ib found most interesting of all and she found herself spending thousands upon thousands of hours reading them when she was  
not out exploring, learning of almost everything that Guertena had done in his life.

However it was when these materials began to dry up that Ib realized she was running out of things to see, far less often she found  
herself in a new room and, on the brief occasion that she did, she found that's its contents did little to move her – there was far  
less now to distract her from the crushing loneliness she felt. Cracking a little, Ib began searching for a way out of the gallery.  
Though doubtlessly Mary had done so before her, Ib was certain that there must have been a way, that the other girl had missed  
something. She began methodically combing through each of Guertena's books, searching for some clue or snippet of information, all  
the while combing the galleries many corridors and rooms, methodically searching for the elusive missing link. It was dull and draining  
work. Ib found that she spoke to herself occasionally, just to hear a voice.

The search began to stretch on for many years and yet Ib saw no results. She began talking to herself more often. With each passing  
day she lost a little more hope and soon, resentment began to creep into her thoughts. She hated the gallery…she hated  
Guertena…and most of all…she _hated _that she had put herself in this situation. That she had trusted Garry and Mary to come and  
rescue her. A pair of people who - by now -must have been long gone.

Ib retreated into herself. Creating fantasies and scenarios in her head of rescue she slowly forgot how events had actually passed in  
favour of her own dramatized version. In them, Mary became the evil demon who lusted after escape from the gallery, Garry the  
trickster who colluded with her, reaching out one hand to help Ib whilst using the other to push Mary to freedom. It did not take long  
for these versions to replace the originals.

Whilst Ib worked on these fantasies she worked on her art as well. Spending decades practicing subjects which she had displayed little  
talent in until she had mastered them to a level which no one before her had ever achieved. She could create portraits and landscapes  
of such realism that they were better than even photographs. She could sculpt and design at a level that Michelangelo or Di Vinci could  
only dream of. Write and compose better than Shakespeare and Mozart. It was then that Ib began to realize that Guertena was but a  
shadow of her skill. That her works had long ago surpassed his. That _her_ works should be the ones on display in this museum not his.

And that was exactly what she did.

Ib had worked her way through the gallery in a daze, tearing down Guertena's works and replacing them with what, in her eyes at least,  
were the superior ones created by her. This continued for many decades and never once did Ib feel even the slightest shred of remorse  
for what she was doing. She hated this hell, she did not pity it.

Ib had expected that she would feel gratified upon completion of her own "masterpiece" and yet – with her work done – she felt nothing.  
Perhaps even worse than this - The work she had done had taken its toll upon the gallery, it had begun to decay, the hallways and  
rooms, already unwelcoming and gloomy – growing worse, the dark works that Ib herself had created making the place even more  
oppressive. It was then that Ib had spiralled into depression – barely functioning, she had wandered aimlessly, doing nothing of value  
save keeping a tally of her says spent in the gallery, a tally which now stretched beyond count…

_Seven hundred years at least…_  
Ib thought, breaking from her revere as she continued rifling through the pile of equipment, finally finding what she had been looking for.  
_But I'm different now…I've broken from my idleness. I'm no longer wasting away…_  
Ib retrieved the object and stared down at it, a smile working its way onto her face for the first time in many years.  
"There is…and always will be…just one way out of this gallery…" she muttered, "And all I need…"  
Ib contemplated the object a while longer before sending it flying into a nearby canvas, burying it deep in the material.

"Is a single sacrifice…" she finished, staring at the pallet knife with a twisted grin.


	7. Abyss of the Deep

Well. It took a while! But I've been distracted by Christmas and Coursework.  
This chapter was really difficult for me to write and I threw around a couple of other versions.  
Hopefully I picked the best.

* * *

"…"  
The pair of them simply stood there, gaping – as they had been for several minutes.  
"It's one thing…being trapped there…but walking in _willingly…_"  
Garry, clothed in a lose fitting pair of khakis his trademark Burberry, looked distinctly more tired than usual, with his  
grey hair messily combed to one side and light brown circles underneath his eyes – courtesy of a lack of a good nights'  
sleep.  
Mary, a little lethargic herself and clothed in her school uniform (Garry had been heavily against her wearing one of her  
many dresses) simply nodded in response – too busy staring up at the daunting sculpture dominating the floor space  
before them to formulate a response.  
"…How do we even get in…" she whispered apprehensively after a minute of silence.  
Though the museum was bright and airy, with a steady stream of tourists working their way through the various  
exhibits, Mary and Garry felt as though they were already in another world.  
Garry circled around the side of the sculpture, leaving Mary standing by the plaque he called softly, "I was told…Ib told  
me that she…"  
He stopped short and shot Mary a wary glance before continuing.  
"She…went through there…"  
Mary walked to his side and gaped.  
"She went…through _that?"_  
"Apparently so…" replied Garry, frowning.  
The apparent point of entry was perhaps the most hostile thing imaginable.  
"Tch…figures it would be the Sharks' mouth of all things…" Garry muttered, running a hand through his hair and circling  
around to read the plaque for the umpteenth time.  
"Abyss of the Deep. Created in 1608 this daunting piece was years ahead of its time in both design and style. With  
huge attention to detail its…"  
Mary tuned him out as she stared up at the shark.

It was incredibly detailed, from the set of razor sharp teeth to the expertly crafted waves rolling of it; the piece was  
both terrifying and beautiful in equal measure. Mary found herself unable to look away. The ruby eyes gleamed in the  
lights of the museum, seeming to follow her movement.  
"It's all perception" Garry said from beside her, guessing her train of thought and placing a hand on her shoulder.  
"I know…but still…" Mary murmured, finally breaking eye contact to stare down at her shoes.  
"Yeah…I know…" said Garry, still frowning.  
"Do we have to go this way…?" Mary asked, "How did you get in…the first time…"  
Garry's frown deepened, apparently the topic bothered him.  
"The rope from the painting I was looking at fell out" he said at last.  
"Wouldn't that be better…" Mary said slowly, expecting there to be a problem.  
"It…would have been…" Garry responded, twisting away from her to hide his expression, pretending instead to fiddle  
with the straps on his rucksack.  
It was large and heavy, and filled with all the supplies that Garry's had suspected that they would need. Food, maps,  
documents, a compass (Though they heavily suspected that it wouldn't work), medical supplies and, most importantly,  
a powerful flashlight which would last for several days.  
"Would have been…?" Mary prompted when Garry lapsed into silence.  
It took Garry a time to reply.  
"There was…a vandal…or…burglar…or something of the sort…"  
Garry spoke reluctantly, toying with something in his pocket and barely looking at her.  
"Some of Guertenas works went missing…and…a couple more were…destroyed…The Hanged Man was one of  
them…so…we can't…use it…"  
Mary nodded reluctantly, unsure as to why it bothered Garry so deeply.  
"And…" Garry made to say something more stopped.  
Suddenly it dawned upon Mary.  
"What else went…missing…" she asked, already knowing the answer.  
Garry looked at her with a pained expression, confirming it.

"Ibs' did…" Mary muttered, "So she might be-"

"No" Garry said sternly, cutting her off with a fierce expression upon his face, "We don't know that it would…we don't  
even know that it was one of those that were destroyed!"  
_Now you've worried Garry even more._ Mary chastised herself. Wincing internally at Garry's tortured expression.  
Mary searched for words to comfort Garry, but surprisingly he spoke first.  
"It doesn't matter anyway" he said in a strong voice, his fist clenched, "As long as there is a way in and out", he nodded  
in the direction of _The Fabricated World, _which was displayed proudly in the first room of the exhibit, "Then we can rescue  
her…"  
"I…"  
There were a dozen things Mary could respond with, both ridiculously optimistic and pessimistic in equal manner. But in the  
end she settled for a simple reply.  
"Yeah. We can!"  
"No more hesitating" Garry growled, stepping deliberately over the velvet rope, "I have a promise to keep"  
With this Garry walked quickly and purposefully into the sharks' mouth.

Mary made to follow but found herself restrained by a hand clamping down upon her shoulder.

"You can't just go past that. It's there for a reason" a man in a guard's uniform said sternly.  
"Let go please!" Mary urged, trying to free herself.  
"Hmph…Aren't you a little young to be wandering the gallery alone?" the guard asked.  
"I'm not alone I'm with my brother!" Mary replied.  
"Where is he?"  
"His…"  
Mary stared into the sharks' mouth.

It was empty.

Mary gaped for a split second before continuing, conscious that a wrong move could end up with her being thrown out.  
"Gone to grab us some food!" Mary finished lamely.  
"Hmmm…perhaps we should go look for him together…" the guard replied, frowning slightly.  
"But what if he comes back and I'm not here!" Mary said.  
"Ah…well…"  
The guard rubbed the back of his neck irritably, unsure of how to deal with the troublemaking girl. Mary could tell that he  
was having trouble deciding.  
_Please just walk away…_  
The guard gave her a long look; evidently, he found something in her expression.  
"Fine…" he muttered, defeated, "But I'll be around…so don't get yourself into trouble…"  
The moment the guard turned his attention from her, Mary lurched forwards - charging into the sculpture's depths  
without a moment's hesitation.

The change was immediate and obvious. The air became thick and stifling, the light dull and oppressive.

_I'm back…_

No sooner had she thought those words than something flew into her – hard – and held her tightly. Trying to scream  
Mary found that her voice was muffled.  
"Let me go!" she cried, though the words were barely distinguishable.  
"Mary…thank goodness…" a voice said from above her.  
Looking upwards Mary found herself staring up at a very distraught looking Garry – his eyes were wide and panicked  
and his face was both pale and flushed.  
"Garry?" Mary asked, trying to make sense of the situation as he released her from his bone crushing hug.  
"I was so worried…so worried…" he muttered, placing a hand on each of her shoulders.  
"I don't…" Mary began, only to be cut off.  
"What happened?" Garry asked, urgency returning to his tone as he gave her the lightest of shakes.  
"Oh…a guard held me up…sorry…" Mary said.  
"What the hell was he doing for so long?!" Garry said in a hushed tone which radiated disbelief.  
Mary furrowed her brow, confused.  
"So long…?" she asked, "It was…a minute tops…"  
Garry continued looking at her for a several seconds before he finally released her entirely, walking back and forth  
before her he seemed to be in deep thought.  
"Mary…" he said at last, pausing and giving her an odd look, "It's been four hours…"  
He turned his watch to face her as he said this and, sure enough, the display read eight fifty pm. Almost three  
hours after the museums closing time.  
"How…" whispered Mary, staring at it, dumbfounded.  
"The...hell if I know…" Garry muttered.  
The pair of them shared a long significant look as they stood there in the darkened corridor.

Apparently the gallery had plenty of secrets that they were not prepared for.

_Kids these days, getting themselves into trouble at every opportunity..._  
The guard was aggravated, unsure as to whether he should have trusted the young girl.  
_She looked like she was lying to me. _He thought, thinking of the blonde girls' face. _But…there was something  
there…_  
The guard had perhaps taken five very slow steps by the time he decided that he had made the wrong decision.  
He spun around and marched straight back to the exhibit, intending to march her to the café and find her  
'brother'.

There was nothing there. An empty space where the blonde haired girl had been standing no more than five  
seconds ago.

"What…the…" muttered the guard, "Did a blonde girl pass any of you a few seconds ago?" the guard asked of  
the few passed tourists.  
In response he received a couple of shaking heads.  
_Did she go past the rope?!_  
Walking forwards the guard peered into the mouth of the shark; it was the only logical hiding spot after all.  
However a brief glance told him that it was completely empty.  
"Where the hell did she go?" muttered the guard to himself, turning left and right in confusion.  
"Hey!" shouted a balding man suddenly; shoving his way roughly past a young couple he confronted the guard.  
"Did you see a young blonde girl here?" the guard asked, thinking the man had appeared in response to his  
question.  
"What?! No!" responded the man in an angered tone, "But I tell you what it's a bloody disgrace this is! An  
absolute joke!"  
"Sorry sir but what exactly is a joke?" the guard asked in forced politeness.

He didn't like the man or his tone, not at all.

"That painting you have in the entrance hall! The Fabricated World is it?"  
"Yes…I believe so…" the guard replied, unsure why the man was talking to him about art when there were experts  
available on the help desk.  
"Well. It's certainly fabricated!" the man said indignantly.  
_You going to get to the point here…?_  
"I'm sorry sir I don't follow…"  
"You don't know?!" asked the man in a tone of disbelief, pulling a theatrical expression to go along with it, "I tell  
you that I will have this place _sued…"_  
Growing tired of the man, especially in light of his threats, the guard asked in a sharp tone, "Sir, what_ is_ the  
problem?"  
"The problem?! It's _far _more than a problem. It undermines this entire exhibition!" the man responded.  
He then paused, clearly going for a sense of dramatization before he said in a loud voice, addressing the small  
number of tourists who were discreetly watching the scene unfold before them.

"That painting, I viewed it last time I was here and it was perfectly fine…but now...it is a replica! _It is a fake…"_


End file.
